


The Boy Who Lived

by PurpleJelly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-11 06:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleJelly/pseuds/PurpleJelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Neville was 'The Boy Who Lived'? What if it was Harry's parents that were tortured into insanity? How would that affect everyone involved, and the outcome? I intend to explore every possible outcome. Major characters stay mostly the same, except where a change in their background would affect their personality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Everywhere was dark. Even the stars were hidden from sight. There was an unnerving silence that wrapped the countryside in a blanket of veiled terror. There were no birds, no rabbits or foxes running through the bushes, not even the wind whistling through the trees.  
The people in the house on the hill felt the silence. Terror ripped through them, they had been waiting for this for months. The man stood upstairs, hidden from sight from the front of the door, with his hand held high. It was trembling, yet he stood tall and strong. His wife was hidden away in the attic upstairs, trying to keep her choleric infant from making any noise. Her last hopes were almost gone, yet her defeated soul was still proud. She believed that they still had a chance, that they were still protected. She was wrong.

The man's heart beat fast. This was it, he knew it. The front door blasted open without warning, some of the outer wall of the house and the interior went with it. The intruder stepped inside. The man started to defend against the invader, but to no avail. Sparks and bright flashes of light bounced off the walls. He was killed instantly, effortlessly, without a thought. The attacker started up the stairs, kicked the now lifeless body to the side, and continued on. Muffled cries were heard from the attic. He tore apart the hidden entrance and ascended into the tiny room. The woman was in the corner, holding her child closely to her chest. Terrified and trembling violently, she begged for the life of her child. The evil figure that had barged his way into their house, killing and destroying anything in his path, just stood there. Listening. His blank face betrayed nothing of his thoughts. “Please” cried the woman, inching herself closer and closer to the dusty corner of the attic. The man smiled, he grew tired of this mind game. A cold, chilling laugh filled the room as the attacker raised his arm. A blinding green light flowed through the room; the woman lay dead on the floor, her child still cradled in her arms. His cries had turned into wails. The man stepped forward and forcefully pulled the child from it's mother's dead arms. Another piercing green flash of light, this time accompanied by a blast more powerful than before. The infant's wails grew louder.


	2. Acceptance Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville waits for his letter from Hogwarts and struggles with his thoughts as he's convinced he is a squib and is reduced to a life without magic.

He hadn't slept. The anticipation was killing him as he sat at the breakfast table. Neville knew that if the letter didn't arrive, life as he knew it would be over. The waiting was killing him – his stomach was queasy and his palms were sweaty. His grandmother was looking at him sternly as he picked at the bacon on his plate. “You better leave nothing on that plate, boy, I won't have any food go to waste”. Neville just nodded glumly, making more of an effort to push the food around the plate. He was sure the letter would never arrive; his grandmother, although she obviously cared for him, always told him he was never good enough, he would never measure up to his parents. Why would he be allowed into the prestigious school his parents went to before him, he thought to himself. His parents had died to protect him, they were talented and brilliant, how could he ever compare?

A loud rapping at the window interrupted his thoughts, a sudden bubble of hope grew in his chest. Was this it? Neville jumped up, nearly knocking his food off the table. “Oi!” his grandmother barked. “Watch it!” she said as she opened the window. A barn owl appeared, with what seemed to be a newspaper in its beak, and a leather pouch attached to its right leg. The bubble of hope in Neville died as he spotted the paper. He sank back down again into his chair, feeling even more depressed than before. The owl hopped in onto the table and held its leg out expectantly. Augusta, his grandmother, got up from her rocking chair and shoved some small brown coins into the owl's pouch. The owl spat out the newspaper and took off out the window again.

Neville, finally losing all hope, forced the rest of his breakfast into him and started to clear away the table. Augusta sat in her rocking chair, humming a tune as she read the newspaper, titled 'The Daily Prophet'. The front page was littered with moving pictures and the usual dribble of words of a slow news day. Neville was holding back his tears with everything he had as he stacked the dishes by the sink, and with one last hopeful glance towards the window, made his way up to his bedroom. He was a squib, he thought to himself. He had always suspected it, his family had been trying to squeeze any sort of magic out of him for years but without much luck. He had thought that what had happened last week he might be a wizard after all; his great-uncle Algie held him out the upstairs window by his ankles when Algie was offered cake and accidentally let go, leaving Neville to bounce down the lane safely. Great-uncle Algie was so impressed that he had bought him a toad to bring with him to school. Not that it mattered now. Now he had to learn to live without magic, like a muggle. Silent tears escaped down his face just as he reached his bedroom. Slowly, he turned the lock on his door and slowly sat down on his bed. Tears flowed more freely now, heart broken sobs ripping through him as he lay down on his bed and gripped his pillow like a comfort teddy.

Minutes passed before Neville could bring himself to sit back up again. No longer crying, his eyes were now swollen and red. A calm had come over him;he was still upset but now he had control over himself. He could plan what to do now with his life. As he sat there, breathing in deeply, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He jumped up, and ran to the window, almost falling out of it. Despair turned to joy as he spotted a large tawny owl unmistakably flying towards his house. He ran to his door and ripped it open. “Nan!” he shouted down the stairs, nearly flying down them. “Nan! Theres an owl outside!” Neville burst into the kitchen, still shouting, to see his grandmother picking up a large yellowed envelope made of parchment. Augusta held the letter up to her eyes, smiled, and held it out for Neville to see. There was a crest on the back above the wax seal, containing a lion, serpent, badger and bird, and labelled underneath as “Hogwarts”. Bursting with excitement, he turned over the letter, to confirm that it really was meant for him.

There it was; his name and address in plain handwriting right there on the envelope.

Neville Longbottom,  
Lakeview House,  
Park Road,  
Keswick,  
England

He nearly cried with joy. Hands shaking, he slowly opened the envelope and took out the letter. He was careful not to tear anything: he was going to remember this proud moment by sticking the letter to his bedroom wall. He was giddy with happiness and he read his letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
Supreme Mugwump, Indernational Confed. Of Wizards)

Dear Mr Longbottom,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagle  
Deputy Headmistress

Neville looked up from his letter to his gran, her face was beaming with pride. “Nan, I actually got it” he exclaimed, “I'm going to Hogwarts!” This was the happiest moment of his life, he thought. Nothing could bring him down today. Not until moments later when flocks of doting relatives flooded through the front door and the fireplace, bringing with them congratulations and 'thoughful' but useless gifts he could bring with him to school. His heartfelt grin turned into a polite but forced smile and countless cousins and friends of his grandmother pinched his cheeks and ruffled his hair. He counted down the hours until he could retreat to his room and reread his letter. In his head he carefully planned out what he was going to buy first, what shops he was going to visit, and most of all, he imagined what his wand was going to be like. Life was going to be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, the first chapter. Not very long, but I wanted to get it out there as soon as possible. There is definitely a lot more to come, so please be patient, review, and I'll have the next chapter(which will be at the very least twice as long) posted to you as soon as possible.


	3. Chapter 2 - Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville visits Diagon Alley to buy his school supplies, and meets a few interesting people there...

“Neville, dear, are you nearly ready yet?” Augusta called, while fixing her hair in the large gilded mirror above the fireplace in the kitchen. Going into town, she wore her best clothes: a tall hat upon which perched a stuffed vulture(that she was very proud of), a long green crushed velvet dress, and a fox-fur scarf that was wrapped snugly around her neck, regardless of the warm summer day. Today, she was bringing her grandson to shop for his school supplies, and she wanted to look her best as she paraded him through the single busiest wizard street in the country. She had never been so proud of the boy; she had feared for years that he hadn't an ounce of magic in him. “Coming, Nan” Neville answered as he thundered down the stairs. He too was wearing his best robes, although he was starting to grow out of them. “It's a good thing we're going into town today, boy, you're getting too big for those robes.” Neville nodded, not really paying attention to a word she said as she rattled on about places to visit. He was so excited he was bouncing about, not keeping still. 

“Pay attention!” his nan barked, shocking him still. “Right, we're going to the Leaky Cauldron first, I have to say hello to a few people. You're going in first so I make sure you don't get lost again” she uttered, peering down at him with a condescending grimace. She remembered the last time he got lost – he had appeared in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries when he should have gone to Hogsmeade village. She was frantic with worry for hours until he finally arrived back home covered in soot and a recently healed wrist(that he had broken on arrival). Neville stilled instantly under her gaze, bowed his head and mumbled an apology. Augusta smiled and handed him a fistful of floo powder. She wondered once again if she was too hard on the boy, he had been through so much already. She stopped her train of thought as tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes. It wouldn't do at all for Neville to see his strong grandmother(Augusta thought herself to be a strong, independent woman) break down in front of him. 

Neville took the green powder in his hand and stepped into the large open fireplace, careful not to get soot on his robes. He took a deep breath. Hand outstretched, he spoke loudly and clearly: “Leaky Cauldron!” and dropped the floo powder at his feet. Suddenly, bright green flames engulfed him and the image of his grandmother's kitchen disappeared. Various different rooms replaced it, one after another blurring by. Neville felt like he was spinning around at high speed, making him feel nauseous. After a few seconds, he felt himself slowing down, the fireplaces going by much slower, until he finally stopped at his destination. Relieved he got there in one piece and without throwing up this time, Neville stepped out of the fireplace and into the Leaky Cauldron. It was a very dark and shabby place. A few old women were sitting in the corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old barman, who was bald and looked like a gummy walnut. 

Moments later the fireplace erupted in flames once again to reveal Augusta as she stepped out, brushing soot off her dress in the process. “Good morning Tom” she nodded to the old barkeep. “Morning Mrs. Longbottom” he replied. “You'll never guess who came by earlier mum, that Potter boy!” he spoke in a hushed tone, as if discussing the latest scandal. “Polite he may be, but that boy's trouble, mark my words!” Augusta looked appalled to be privy to such gossip. “Shame on you Tom, you know full well what that boy's been through. It's a credit to Mr Black that he didn't turn out worse and you know it!” Tom had the decency to look ashamed at the scolding. “Yes mum” he replied. “Mr Black” he muttered to himself, “That Black boy is the one setting him in his ways, not much better himself is he?” he said to no one in particular. Augusta held her head high in triumph and walked briskly out the back door. Neville followed quickly, secretly rejoicing in the fact his grandmother was giving out to someone else for a change. 

The back door led into a small stone courtyard. In the corners there were stacks of boxes and barrels. Augusta stepped up to the wall and drew out her hand, tapping several random bricks in a seemingly precise order. She stepped back, and as she did the bricks magically rearranged themselves to create the entrance to Diagon Alley. Hundreds of witches and wizards were busy running errands up and down the street, most of which were the new students of Hogwarts who had come to buy their school supplies. Augusta took off in brisk strides, not giving Neville the chance to stand and look at the wonders around him. Dodging his way through the thick crowds, Neville followed the stuffed vulture to Flourish and Blotts bookstore. His grandmother disappeared inside, leaving him to stand and wait outside.

There were a few others like him just waiting on people, but one in particular caught his eye. He was about Neville's age, a brooding figure leaning on the rail outside the shop. His messy hair wasn't short, but it was long enough to fall into his eyes. He had his eyes trained on the crowd in front of him, and Neville noticed that he was slyly waving his wand and mouthing words, as if conjuring a spell. Curious, Neville thought to himself. He waited to see what would happen next. Suddenly, a panic started in the crowd. The most amusing of which was a red headed boy who was scrambling away in pure terror. Neville caught a glimpse of the source of the panic – a spider that had obviously been enlarged by a spell. A tall wizard with long black hair and expensive looking robes took charge of the matter and, with a knowing smirk, reduced the spider to its normal size. Neville looked back to the mysterious boy and saw that he was laughing mischievously. He was joined seconds later by the tall wizard, who gave him a pat on the back. “Your dad would have been proud” he said into the boy's ear as the crowd dispersed. They moved on down the road, leaving Neville in shock and a sense of curiosity to who this boy could be.

The red headed boy stood beside him and leaned on the rail for support, still gasping and shaking from the sudden attack. “Blimey, did you see that monster?” he wheezed, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Yeah” Neville replied, “pretty big all right. You okay?” The boy nodded, a bit of colour returning to his face, highlighting his many freckles. “The name's Ron, Ron Weasley. And you are?” Neville recognised his name as soon as it was spoken. The Weasleys were a well known pure-blood wizarding family, although many consider them to be blood traitors for marrying or otherwise consorting with muggles. The Weasleys were easily identified with their shocking red hair, pale skin and many freckles, as was obvious with this boy. “I'm Neville Longbottom. Wasn't your great-aunt Callidora married to my great-grandfather Harfang?” Ron stared in shock as Neville held out his hand. “Neville?” he exclaimed, “as in Frank Longbottom's son Neville?” Neville sighed. Not this again, he thought to himself. 

“Yeah that's me” Neville replied, weariness suddenly apparent in his voice. He was sick and tired of all these constant questions, and most of all the staring, when he met new people. “So” Ron asked, “do you really have that scar?” Neville brushed back his longish fringe to reveal a thin silvery scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. He had demanded years ago that his grandmother let his hair grow long to hide it, after enduring endless pointing and stared from strangers. It was pretty much the only battle his nan ever let him win. “Blimey!” Ron exclaimed. He started to speak again but he was interrupted by Augusta, who Neville was never so glad to see. “Come Neville, I've gotten your books, now to get your robes” she barked at him, already far ahead. Neville shrugged at the red headed boy and ran after her gratefully. Not that Ron didn't seem nice, but he hated all the questions and the staring. Why couldn't people leave him alone, he wondered. He didn't do anything special except for being in the way of the most formidable wizard of all time – why did people point and stare at him like he belonged to a zoo?

Neville pushed through the crowd, so deep in thought that he barely noticed shoving someone sharply until they shoved him back. He fell backwards into the crowd, completely caught unawares. “Oi!” someone yelled at him from above. Neville noticed that it was the young boy who caused all the trouble earlier. “Watch where you're going” he said, walking away. Neville got up and made his way to Madam Malkin's, watching his step more carefully. His grandmother was there waiting for him, a stern look on her face. “Hurry up boy” she snapped. Neville ran inside, to find the boy standing on a short stool inside, being measured by a bewitched tape measure. A woman rustled about the storeroom, fussing and muttering to herself. Neville stepped inside the dusty shop and sat waiting in the corner. “You again” the boy mused. “What's you're name, clumsy?” he smirked, obviously proud of his own joke. “Neville Longbottom” he replied warily, waiting for the bombardment of questions. “Harry Potter” the boy replied nonchalantly. Neville was shocked, was this the one person that had never heard of him before? Neville wondered on this, until he realised that the boy's name had indeed rung a bell. His parents were attacked when he was just a baby, he realised, just like him. Although, Neville remarked, he was much luckier, as he knew Harry's parents were tortured into insanity by the Dark Lord's most loyal followers – the same Dark Lord that had killed his own parents, tried to kill him, and then had the curse rebound upon himself and in turn destroyed himself. Neville's heart went out to Harry, he couldn't imagine how hard it was to have parents that couldn't even recognise him. Neville only knew all this because his grandmother went to visit Harry's parents every few months. Apparently she knew them well before it all happened. 

“So you're going to Hogwarts, yeah?” Harry asked, obviously feeling obliged to make small talk as they waited. Neville just nodded. “This is my first year. I hope I get into Gryffindor. Well, I don't mind really what house I get in” he rattled on, “as long as I don't get put in Slytherin. Anything would be better than that, don't you think?” Neville smiled in relief. After watching his mischief earlier he was convinced that Harry would be a definite contester for Slytherin, a house that was regarded as evil. There wasn't a single wizard in history that went bad who didn't belong to Slytherin. Neville felt more at ease that he knew this. He nodded in agreement. Madam Malkin walked back in with such an air of authority that he dared not speak again. The boys had their school robes packaged and were sent on their way. “See you at Hogwarts?” Harry asked. Neville for the first time sensed an insecurity in him that wasn't there before. Maybe that bravado was just a form of protection for Harry against the cruelties of the world. Neville smiled in reassurement. “Yeah, sure” he replied. At least he could maybe count on having one friend at school.


	4. Chapter 3 - The Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville travels on the Hogwarts Express. New people to meet, and being accident-prone is sure to cause some mischief.

Days passed, and Neville was waiting eagerly for his first day of school. Proud relatives flocked from all over the world to congratulate him and shower him with gifts that would help him in school. From his grandmother, he received a fine set of phoenix feather quills that were enchanted to guarantee exquisite penmanship, spelling and grammar. From his great-auntie Enid, he was given spelled gloves and winter boots that were always toasty warm when worn, for the bitter cold winter months at the castle. His great-uncle Algie had even bought him a wizards chess set, in addition to Trevor the toad. The most useful gift of all, was a trunk that could hold an innumerable amount of things and not get any heavier. Neville thanked his lucky stars for that one, as he hadn't an ounce of strength in him. He was grateful, for one, that no one had thought to get him a broomstick. Being short and chubby, Neville had no ambition for playing sport of any kind, although he loved to watch the Appleby Arrows(his favourite team) play. 

It was the night before school, and Neville was yet again repacking his trunk, making sure that he hadn't forgotten a thing, which wasn't an unusual thing to happen(each time he repacked he found three more things to pack). Eventually, his grandmother got sick of his constant worrying and with a wave of her wand, everything that needed to go packed itself nice and neatly into the trunk. With nothing more to do but worry, Neville retreated to his bedroom and pretended to read his brand new book on how to care for toads, thinking constantly about what tomorrow would bring. Daylight soon came, and Neville was still sitting on his bed, a pit of dread gathering in his stomach. He had spent hours during the night worrying about what people he would meet, whether they would stare at him, whether they would point and laugh at him, what house he would be put in, and what he would do when he got there. After living for so long surrounded by his family, he was terrified of being alone for the first time in his life. 

“Time to get up” his grandmother called from the door. Even she knew that this was a big day for him. “Nan,” he whispered softly, “what if they made a mistake. What if I have no magic after all, and they figure it out when I get there and send me back?” Augusta sat down beside her grandson and put a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Don't you worry, Neville” she said warmly, a friendly smile on her face, “They never make mistakes. You belong there, don't you ever forget that, and don't ever let anyone make you believe it either. You are a wizard” she smiled. “But-” Neville protested. “No buts! Now get ready, we're leaving for the train in twenty minutes” she barked as she briskly left the room. Feeling only slightly better, Neville put on his brand new school robes, his stomach still churning with nerves. He stepped slowly down the stairs, delaying the inevitable as much as possible. When he arrived in the kitchen, he looked up to find the room full of decorations and well-wishers. He grimaced as his stomach churned with even more ferocity. He wasn't ready for this. He knew it. Maybe he should try again next year when he's older and more able. He sat down at the table, looking at the impossible amount of food laden there. He took the smallest amount of each dish and put it on his plate, nibbling slightly. When would this parade ever end, he thought miserably. Minutes passed, and eventually people started to to disappear. His grandmother picked up a handful of floo powder and stood by the fireplace. “Ready?” she asked. Neville nodded, not trusting his voice, and joined her. 

A flash of green flames and plenty of spinning later, Neville arrived at the line of fireplaces at platform 9 ¾. There it was, the Hogwarts Express, in all its glory. White puffy clouds billowed out of it's chimney as the platform was busy with students saying goodbye to their families. All over people were chattering away, gossiping and swapping stories of their adventures over the summer. Neville looked around, not one familiar face was to be seen among the crowds. Somewhere, a whistle blew to signal everyone to board the train. Hundreds of students clamoured over each other to get seats. Neville turned to his nan with a tearful smile, and much to his surprise she embraced him in a tight hug. “Be safe” she whispered in his ear. Neville nodded and made his way onto the train. Unfortunately for him, all the compartments were filled with giggling teenagers, none of which Neville was in the mood to tolerate. Near the end of the train he did manage to find a compartment that wasn't packed. 

He knocked on the door and slid it open to find Harry Potter and two others inside, crowded mischievously around a black box. “Um, do- do you mind if I sit in here? Everywhere else is full” he mumbled nervously. “Sure” Harry shrugged and gestured to the remaining empty seat. Suddenly, the train chugged forward and sent Neville stumbling and crashing into his seat, knocking the mysterious box from the boys' hands. It exploded on the floor, filling the tiny room with thick black smoke. There was a mad fumbling around as the boys fumbled about, eventually bailing out of the door into the main corridor, coughing and laughing at each other when they noticed they were covered in black stuff. “Jeez Neville aren't you graceful” Harry spluttered as he coughed out a mouthful of that black concoction. That set off another round of laughter, until one of the boys spotted a prefect coming over to see what all the commotion was. “RUN!” he shouted, and the boys sped off down the train, Neville trailing behind. Wouldn't it be wonderful, he thought, if he was served with detention before school had even started. 

Harry led them into one of the tiny bathrooms down the hall, each boy squishing in as much as they could. “Right boys, watch this” Harry whispered, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he pulled a silvery liquid-like cloak out from under his jumper. He draped the cloak over all of their shoulders, and calmly led them out into the corridor and strolled back into their compartment. As they stepped inside, the prefect they saw earlier stuck his head in and looked around. Neville blanched, his knees knocked together. He was done for, he knew it. That is, until the prefect looked right through them and left. Harry shook off the cloak, folded it gently and hid it way again, laughing to himself as he sat down. “What was that?” one of the boys gasped. “This, my friends,” Harry replied with a grin, “is an invisibility cloak. Once you put it on you're completely see-through, although it won't stop you from bumping into people.” They all crowded around it in wonder. One of the boys looked up and eyed Neville. “Oi Harry, so who's this bleedin' train wreck?” he said with a smirk and a wink. “Guys this is Neville Longbottom, Neville this is Kevin Entwhistle and Seamus Finnegan” Harry replied, pointing them out. Neville was glad he had decided against bringing Trevor the toad to Hogwarts; he was sure that the boys would have laughed at him.

“Well what's the craic Nev?” Seamus said, eagerly shaking his hand. “Aren't you that fella that sent You-Know-Who out on his arse?” he chuckled, Kevin and Harry chuckling with him. Neville gaped at him, not sure at all what to say. He had never met anyone so blasé about that subject, never mind anyone willing to make a joke about it. “Er, yeah I guess so” he murmured. Neville sat down, awkwardly trying to brush off the black dirt that covered him from head to toe. Kevin whipped out his wand and muttered “Scourgify”, and instantly the dirt from the entire room vanished, also leaving the boys squeaky clean. Looking very pleased for himself, Kevin put his wand back away and sat down, smoothing out imaginary creases in his clothes. “Not too bad for a muggle-born, if I do say so myself” he said smugly. Harry began to reply with a smart response but was interrupted by a knock on the door. It slid open to reveal a plump, friendly elderly witch. “Anything off the trolley dears?” she crooned, showing the young lads the trolley that she was pushing was laden with every sweet thing imaginable. While Harry, Seamus and Neville rushed towards the trolley and stuffed their pockets to the brim with sweets, Kevin hung back with his jaw hanging at all the fantastical sweets that he couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. Just before the witch left, he came to his senses and pulled out his money. “I'll have some of everything” he said eagerly, his eyes glazed in wonder. Being born into a non-magical family, he was new to the wizarding world and all of it wonders, including something as small as “Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans”, “Cauldron Cakes”, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum”, “Jelly Slugs”, “Liquorice Wands”, and “Pumpkin Pasties”. Hands and pockets full to the brim, Kevin poured his treasure onto his seat and wondered what he'll eat first. 

“Ooh go for the chocolate frogs first, they're the best” said Neville, who was already munching into his own stash. Kevin opened up the pentagon shaped packet to find a chocolate frog. It croaked, causing Kevin to jump and spill numerous sweets on the floor, including the frog. “Quick! Get it before it escapes!” someone said in the commotion. There was a mad scramble to find the frog, anything on the floor was sent flying into the air in their search. “Got it!” exclaimed Seamus, clutching it in his hands, although careful to not let it melt. He handed it back to Kevin, who took a careful bite, only to find the chocolate was delicious. “I love them just for the chocolate itself,” said Neville, “I couldn't be bothered with the cards.” “Cards?” Kevin asked. Harry picked up the opened box and took out a card. “Damn, it's Rowena Ravenclaw, I already have tons of her” sighed Harry, “Here you go, you can start your collection now” he said as he threw the card over to Kevin, who looked at it in wonder. “Rowena Ravenclaw. Co-founder of Hogwarts. Came up with the ever changing floor plan. Gave her name to one of the four houses” he read from the back. He turned it over to look at the picture to find she had vanished. “She's gone!” he gasped, flipping the card over and back again. “Of course she's gone” said Seamus, “she's hardly gonna hang around all day.” Kevin turned it back over. There, he saw Rowena edge back into the picture and give him a friendly wave. Slightly disturbed at the moving picture, he put the card away and ate away at the rest of his sweets.

Neville sat back comfortably in his seat. Drifting off with the swaying motion of the carriages, the warm air, and the quiet conversations between Harry and Seamus(Kevin was experimenting with his wand), Neville's eyes began to gently close. What felt like only seconds later, he was shook awake by Seamus, “We're here man! We're at Hogwarts!” he exclaimed. Neville looked around him in shock; the lanterns in the carriage were lit and outside was pitch black, except for the outline of a large castle surrounded by a lake not too far away. He and Kevin stared out the window in awe, noses almost touching the window. The train once again was alive with the bustling of many students scrambling to get their things in time. With a large shudder, the train finally came to a slow stop. Here goes, Neville thought to himself, as he gathered his things and walked out the door.


	5. Chapter 4 - Welcome To Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville enters the castle for the first time

Almost immediately, Neville was caught in the turbulent sea of students. Battered and bruised, he was thrown and shoved from side to side in the mad rush to get off. Amidst the scuffle, he felt someone pick him up by the scruff of his cloak and lift him safely onto the platform. “Thanks a mill-” Neville stopped, just realising who, or what, had just saved him. He looked up into a giant of a man; a being twice the size of an average man and three times as wide. He had a long mane of shaggy black hair and a beard that covered most of his face, and he wore an exceptionally large moleskin overcoat. His eyes glistened like black beetles in the moonlight. “All righ' there son?” he asked, putting one of his enormous hands on Neville's shoulders. Neville's knees nearly buckled under the weight. He nodded vigorously, still at a loss for words. “Good” the giant nodded. “Firs' years over here!” he boomed loudly, “firs' years this way”. Neville spotted Harry and the others in the crowd and joined them. The large man led all the first years down a dirt path that led to the lake, where a collection of boats sat grounded on the shore. 

He stopped at the shore, gesturing for everyone to crowd around him. “The name's Rubeus Hagrid, keeper o' the keys and grounds of Hogwarts. You can call me Hagrid” he smiled. “Right so, four to a boat, and try ta' keep out o' the water.” Neville looked at the black lake, and back at the small boats, and blanched. The water looked very deep and very cold. “Still waters run deep, with old and dark creatures dwelling within” his nan used to tell him. The boats were filling up quickly though, and he didn't want to get left behind. Hands shaking, he carefully stepped into a boat, swaying violently until he stumbled onto his seat. Three other first years stepped into the boat, sneering at him in turn. A fair skinned girl with black hair and a squashed looking face giggled, leaned over to the blonde boy beside her and whispered something in his ear while looking directly at Neville. Neville's face flushed bright red. He looked down at his feet for the entire journey, ignoring the glorious sights of the castle lights illuminating its' silhouette against the night sky. 

The boats pushed themselves silently along the water, soon enough reaching the high cliffs upon which the castle sat upon. “Heads down!” Hagrid shouted as the boats reached a curtain of ivy that hid a small opening into a very large and very ancient cavern which seemed to be right underneath the castle. Neville finally looked up, and his jaw dropped in amazement. The cave was lit by hundreds of candles floating high up above him, illuminating the many stalactites and stalagmites and the beautiful colours and shapes. The boats continued on, drifting onwards through a dark tunnel that opened up to reveal an underground harbour. The boats stopped at the rocky shore and they all climbed out. Hagrid led the way ahead through a dark tunnel, lit only by the old lantern in his giant hand. They came out just below the castle and walked up the stone steps to the huge oak front doors. Hagrid knocked, and the door opened by itself, a tall stern witch with black hair waiting for them. “Thank you Hagrid, that will be all” she said. She looked strict, Neville thought. He'd better not cross her. 

“I am Professor McGonagle, welcome to Hogwarts” she said, turning on her heel and gesturing for them to follow. “Before we start the start-of-term banquet, you will be sorted into your Houses. Sorting is important; whichever House you've joined, they will be like your family for the next few years. There are four Houses in total: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. During the year, these Houses will compete for the House cup. Your triumphs will earn you points, however breaking the rules will lose you points. The House with the most points at the end of the year will win, a marvellous honour.”

She led them through a small corridor off the Entrance Hall, and into a small empty chamber. “The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly, I will return for you when we are ready.” A few girls in the back started to chatter nervously before the Professor had even left, a grievous mistake Neville thought to himself. Professor McGonagle, half turning in her step to leave, caught the attention of the offenders and glared them into silence. “And I would greatly appreciate it if you would wait in silence” she spoke through gritted teeth and stormed out. “Jeez Louise what's with the broomstick up her arse?” Neville heard Seamus mutter not too far off, muffled laughter and hushed whispers filled the room. Worry started to eat away at Neville; what if they sort him into Slytherin? What if they can't decide what House to put him in and just keep him locked in a broom cupboard all year? Or worse – what if they realise their mistake, he's really a squib with no magic whatsoever and send him home? Neville's stomach churned with nerves. His palms were sweaty, and it seemed like every one of his senses were heightened to the extreme. Just as he thought he might pass out from the adrenaline coursing through him, Professor McGonagle returned.

The room silenced immediately, fearing the wrath of the formidable woman before them even more than their own mothers with the wooden spoon on a bad day. “Form a line, one student at a time, and follow me” she said, leading everyone back out into the hall and through the big gilded doors at the side into the Great Hall. Upon entering, each and every mouth dropped at the wonders around them. Neville couldn't take his eyes off the ceiling, which looked like there was no ceiling at all – just a navy-black blanket dotted with stars. “But what if it starts to rain?” Neville muttered to himself. “It's spelled to look like the sky outside, don't worry there actually is a ceiling. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History” the girl behind him whispered into his ear. He glanced behind him and smiled in gratitude. Unfortunate timing as it turned out; the line had come to a stop without Neville noticing, causing him to crash into the person in front of him and start a domino effect. The Hall echoed as the entire school(and some of the teachers too) burst into thunderous laughter. Neville's face turned bright red, almost a vermilion red as he scrambled back up. Tears of shame pricked at the corners or his eyes. He had just arrived and he already made a fool of himself in front of the entire school. The students in front of him picked themselves back up again, cursing him with their glares as they did so.

Neville looked around him for the first time. There were four long tables that ran the length of the room that most of the students sat at, and even a few ghosts that were dotted about the room. At the end of the Hall there was another long table placed along the width of the room where the teachers sat. Professor McGonagle had placed a stool in front of the table, and on top of that an old raggy hat that was covered in stains, rips and hanging threads. All eyes were focused on the hat. A tear at the bottom opened up to form a mouth, and the hat began to sing. Neville didn't hear any words. Fear had consumed him worse than before. Sweat emanated from what it seemed like every single pore. His hands shook and a lump formed in the back of his throat. His breath had gone ragged and erratic, and before too long the hat stopped singing and everyone applauded. 

This was it.  
Professor McGonagle took out a roll of parchment and began to speak again.   
He didn't want to do it.   
The line started to move again, much too quickly for Neville's liking.  
He made a mistake, he wanted to be safe at home where there was nothing expected of him.   
He was getting closer and closer to the front.  
He was sure his Nan would understand, he wasn't cut out for this. 

All too quickly, Neville heard his name being called out. With a deep breath to calm himself and a quick prayer that nothing should go wrong, he took a few brave steps up to the stool and sat on it, all eyes of the entire school on him.   
He put on the hat and waited. “Hmm where should I put you?” Neville jumped as a voice croaked in his ear. “I detect fairness and a lot of loyalty in your head, but I do detect a hint of bravery deep deep down. And then there's something else...something I cant quite put my finger on” the hat mused. Neville was too shocked to reply; he was amazed that the hat thought that he belonged there, that he wasn't going to be sent home after all. “Of course you belong here” the hat suddenly snapped, “This school has been running for thousands of years – do you really think that after all that time we makes boy?” Neville mumbled something back unintelligible. “That's right! You are a wizard. You are enrolled in one of the most prestigious wizarding schools of all time. We don't make mistakes. Now are we ready to proceed?” Neville nodded, still too dumbstruck for a response. “Right...okay. Where to put you? This is a pickle indeed” the hat mused after a while, apparently unaware that they had been sitting there for nearly five whole minutes, all eyes on them becoming impatient. “So, that something else...there's some talent in here I see. Unusual ones maybe, but talent nonetheless” the hat rambled on to himself, Neville didn't understand a word that was being said. “That's it!” the hat suddenly barked in Neville's ear, nearly making him fall off the stool. “GRYFFINDOR!” the hat boomed loudly.

Neville was in shock. Not only had he been accepted into Hogwarts; he had just been sorted into his parents' house. He ran off the stool towards the Gryffindor's table, where he was getting the biggest cheer after being sorted, and back and forth again when he realised he was still wearing the sorting hat. He sat down among his fellow classmates, a couple of claps on the back and a handshakes of congratulations welcomed him to the group. Tears of joy almost flowed down his face he was so happy. The sorting moved on, the line of first years shortened quickly. To his delight, Neville saw that Harry and Seamus were also sorted into Gryffindor. He liked them. They might be mischievous, but they didn't treat him any differently than anyone else. To them he was normal, not the boy who 'defeated' the Dark Lord, the 'Boy Who Lived'. Kevin, however, was sorted into Ravenclaw. Kevin walked over to the Ravenclaw table, smiling sadly to the boys as he left them. Neville waved at him as Kevin sat down to meet his house mates. 

Soon enough the sorting was finished, and everyone was waiting eagerly at their tables. Attention was drawn to the teacher's table, where Professor Dumbledore had risen to his feet. “Welcome!” he cried, his arms wide open and his grin was wide and cheerful. “To our new first years, welcome to Hogwarts, and to our returning students, welcome back!” He looked around the room as he talked, and for a lingering moment, his gaze fell meaningfully on Neville, and back around the room again. Neville sighed; even the headmaster had made it painfully obvious that he was there. No one else seemed to have noticed too much, though. So goo so far, Neville thought to himself. “Now I don't know about you,” the professor continued, “but I am quite famished. Words can come later, for now let's eat!”

He sat down, and the moment he sat in his chair, every single plate in the room was laden full with all sorts of delicious food. Neville heaped his plate and dug in. All around him people were chatting and laughing and stuffing their faces. Neville even joined in. As soon as the dinners were all eaten, the plates disappeared and reappeared full with desserts and all types of wonderful sweet things. Not too long after, everyone was filled to the brim and very sleepy. The tables had cleared themselves away. Professor Dumbledore stood up again and the room fell silent. “Just a few more start-of-term announcements to make,” he started, “As we all should know, the forest is forbidden to all students, new and old.” At that last remark he appeared to be speaking directly to a certain couple of students, looking down at them over his glasses with a knowing smile and a grandfatherly chuckle. “Mr. Filch wants to remind you all not to use magic outside the classrooms” he continued. “Quidditch trials start at the end of week two, any students who wish to play for their house teams must contact Madam Hooch. Also, please note that the third-floor corridor on the right hand side is out-of-bounds this year for anyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

On that last note, the entire hall was puzzled. Surely he couldn't be serious, could he? “Now that everything is said and done, let's go to bed shall we?” Professor Dumbledore said with a smile, and everyone started to file away. Neville stood up, confused as to where to go. “First years, follow me!” One of the older boys, who had a large shiny badge on his chest adorned with a 'P', stood up and began herding the newcomers out of the hall and up the stairs. The boy (who looked very bookish and quite pleased with himself and the 'power' he held) led them through various corridors and through secret passageways behind tapestries, until finally arriving at a large portrait of an overweight woman in a sickly pink dress. Then something happened that made all the muggle-borns jump with fright; the Fat Lady turned to face them. “Password?” she said. “Caput Draconis” replied the boy, and the painting swung open on a hinge to reveal a round hole in the wall. Everyone scrambled through, Neville with a bit of difficulty. The hole led to a large room with large comfy looking chairs and sofas and a roaring fireplace. The girls went up one winding staircase to their dormitory, and the boys trudged up another. Neville, exhausted from the events of the day, was unconscious from the moment his head the pillow. His last thought before he slept was how happy he was that he finally had friends, finally belonged somewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and tell me what you think, I love to get constructive criticism so I can improve. Please be patient, I may take my time in writing but I promise I will do my best to update on time. I'm not quite sure yet on updating schedules, but as the story gets on hopefully I'll figure it out :)  
> This chapter may be short but it's only a prologue, I plan to write a lot more per chapter in the future. 
> 
> *P.S.  
> More reviews inspire me to keep writing, and each reviewer gets a sneak preview of the next chapter ;)


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